


Duality of (not) a man

by imjustheretohaveafantime



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (also it's not reeeally a death, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, And violence, Angel Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Demon Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Guardian Angel Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Human Logic | Logan Sanders, Knives, M/M, Mentions of religion, Minor Character Death, Virgil Curses A Lot, a perfect saturday night, don't worry i will make you hate him first, god is a woman, he'll recover), he's got the range darling, i like to think she's nonbinary because i am also nonbinary and a god, i will not steep so low, let it be known, this is NOT a spn au, you will not suffer for his death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28405347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imjustheretohaveafantime/pseuds/imjustheretohaveafantime
Summary: Virgil really wishes to have been assigned to a dumber human. A himbo wouldn't have had those magnificently sparkling eyes. A himbo wouldn't have made him fall in love.And most importantly, a himbo wouldn't have followed him in the dark alley right when Heaven decided to kick his ass.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, implied platonic or romantic royality
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Duality of (not) a man

So Virgil was anxious.

What a surprise, am i right?

The difference was that, this time, he had a God damn good reason to be. For Her Damned sake, was it too much to ask for one, one single night out with his boyfriend _without_ the death threats?

Weren't it for the crushing fear, he'd be very pissed.

It's not like it had been his fault, anyway.

The Lord, that almighty _Bitch_ of Hers, could have chosen literally anyone to become a Guardian, and she obviously had to pick the fucking demon.

Of course, there was also the fact that High Places still considered loving humans as bestiality but really, no one could ever blame him for that.

Take on look at Logan's starry eyes and dare tell him not to love him. Go on.

Which all brought back to the original problem: Virgil's anxiety did have a valid reason, and that reason was the angel hiding, _oh so badly_ , behind the bar corner.

He couldn't get a damn break, uh.

«Star? Is everything alright?»

That managed to snap him out of his thoughts. Logan had taken his hands, looking at him while obviously trying his best to hide his concern.

He had always done that, ever since Virgil had snapped at him. And _hated_ himself for it, really, but he couldn't risk him asking too much about his past.

«Um… Yeah, i just spaced out for a second, sorry.» He answered, already guilty for all the lies he had to say.

«Actually, do you mind if i take a couple seconds outside? I think i need a little bit of fresh air.»

«Of course, dear, take all the time you require.»

Concern hadn't left his eyes, but his voice was filled with so much _love_ and _patience_ and Holy shit Virgil wasn't going to survive this relationship.

If the angels didn't kill him, Logan was going to absolutely _slaughter_ him with cuteness.

He exited the bar, standing around the entrance for a while before turning the corner.

In front of him there was nothing; at the very least, the kind of nothing you'd expect from a restaurant alley: a couple trash bags, an outrageous smell and a puddle of some liquid he _didn't want to identify._

But Virgil wasn't an idiot. And as a person with an IQ greater than five, he knew that these kind of scenarios always hid something bad.

«Where are you this time?» He whispered through the air.

A mew made itself heard somewhere in the dark in front of him.

«What, your hiding in a damned _cat_ now? Didn't think y'all'd get so low»

«You know, it is _very_ funny.»

A loud, deep voice echoed from the shadows. Air and light seemed to bend together, completing an intricate puzzle of colours and textures. A man-shaped figured walked out of thin air, a gentle breeze flowing trough the the cold area.

Although nothing in particular depicted them as non human, nobody could've ever mistaken them for something else: there was something in their eyes, in their _voice_ , that made them feel way more powerful than any mortal could, or should, ever be.

«It's funny,» they continued, «hearing _you_ of all livings throw that word around. _Damned_.»

They walked around him, circling him way more dramatically than needed and probably making Roman very proud.

«Quite the irony. Don't you think so, _Flight_?»

Virgil backed up, death-glaring at them with all the force he had.

«What do you want, Michael?» He hissed, taking a fighting stance. He knew he would have no chances if they actually did fight, but acting confident usually worked.

«Came here just to annoy me again? Or will you have the balls to actually try something this time, so i can have an excuse to send you back to Her ass?»

Michael got mad. Of course they did, that was the whole point: them getting mad at Virgil meant they weren't going to hurt Logan, at least for another while.

Yet, Virgil couldn't help the crushing feeling of pure _fear_ that washed over him every time he saw an angel's rage.

Michael had opened their wigs and True form, making the alley glow with their halo's light. All of their four, red eyes were glaring at him, both of their pair of wings swinging threateningly behind their back.

But all of this wasn't necessary: every particle in the air was radiating their emotions; the heat of their wrath like a physical, boiling mist pressing down Virgil's skin.

Maybe he had gone too far. This time he really got himself killed, discorporated in a fucking alley of all the places with no chance of going back. He didn't have an escape route, no possibilities of actually defeating an angel in a fight. Let alone a fuming Archangel.

He didn't regret anything. If this meant keeping Logan safe, once and for all, he would sacrifice himself over and over again, as long as eternity lasted. Saying goodbye would've been nice, but-

«Virgil? What is going on?» 

-_-_-

Logan was… confused.

That was a relatively new emotion for him. He decided that he very not liked it.

The confusion came from Virgil. Logan loved him, and he knew he was fully reciprocated.

Yet, every time they were out, Virgil always seemed so…so, distant?

No, not distant, more nervous. _Scared_ , maybe. He did not know why, or of what, but asking his boyfriend about his past had never gone well before, so Logan had decided to just give him the space he needed. He would've come around to explain in his own time.

Tonight was different.

It did not make any sense, really: it had been, by all means, a very common night. They had been hanging out at Roman and Patton's apartment, deciding to finish off the night with a couple of drinks before heading to their own.

Since they got alone, though, Logan had felt some kind of tension, prickling at his skin. A very uncomfortable sensation that had just now reached its peak. 

It wasn't just a prickling any more, it was a forceful push against him, a single irremovable desire to ''check on him, he's probably in danger'' that he never had before.

Besides, he knew very well that Virgil could defend himself.

He had accompanied him to far too many stress-filled trips to the gym, and remembered all of the impossibly strong fists that came with them.

There was also that one time a homophobic guy had tried to threaten Patton on the streets: he wasn't exactly sure of what had happened in that situation, but knew that it ended with the guy running away in fear, loudly begging not to be hurt.

Also, spying on your boyfriend, with the knowledge he probably just needs to pressure-stim for a while, would definitely be a shallow action.

On the other hand, he knew Virgil would never stop from doing something that he needed so badly. And just a quick check couldn't really hurt anyone.

Logan sat, undecided, for three long minutes.

Then he sprung up, paid for their drinks and left the shop in the span of a mere forty seconds.

He was worried, goddammit, and he was going to check on his damn boyfriend.

What e didn't expect, turning in the street, was to hear Vigil hissing.

He knew that hiss.

That was the '' I'm actually pretty scared but I'll cover it up with anger'' hiss, the one that was only reserved for the most critical hits in the most serious arguments.

The words that came with it were certainly a concern, too. while he did not know who 'Michael' was, they probably didn't have very pacific intentions if they made Virgil lash out like this.

On top of all of that, there was this extreme sense of… _powerlessness_ , that grew along with his concern the further he got down the street.

«You little _bitch_.» He heard shouting, « How _dares_ a filthy demon like you _even mention-_ »

«Virgil? What is going on?»

Logan said, his fear for his boyfriend's safety greater than the one he had for the deep-voiced creature.

(because that thing _wasn't_ human, he could bet all his three doctorates on it.)

Both of the not-people in front of him stopped in their tracks, confused looks taking over their faces.

Then the creature smiled.

And Logan knew he had fucked up.

-_-_-

Why, _why_ did he have to get a smart fucking boyfriend.

An idiot jock wouldn't have investigated! He would've stayed, cute and compliant, right in his seat at the bar without the risk of having _his guts ripped out._

He ran to him as fast as he could, trying to screen him from Michael's attacks as best as he could.

What he didn't really think trough was that, for him, ''blocking attacks'' usually also meant ''full form on.''

Mostly because he had never needed to protect anyone in his human form. Also, the wings gave him an easy escape route everywhere but on heart, and spreading them could block way more hits than his arms could.

_Great_. He thought. _Not only am i gonna die, when i actually get up there Chief is gonna have my ass_.

He kept his gaze steady on Michael. He didn't want to see Logan's reaction: the horror in his gaze would've broken him, and right now Virgil's first priority was to keep him safe.

Maybe being discorporated wouldn't be so bad after all. He could survive Her madness, but Logan being disgusted at him? Not even in his worst nightmares.

He took a deep breath, putting on is most threatening face. The one that made Patton cry when he saw it for the first time. He needed all the 'scary points' he could get.

«Get your ass out of here, Michael. I _really_ do not want to kill you today.»

«I will _not_ let such a monster wander freely any more.»

«Since when does She allow you to call Her creations ''monsters''?

I thought She was pretty adamant about treating 'em right.»

-__-

Logan understood one thing and one thing only: he was dating an absolute idiotic person.

_Why in the stars_ was he continuing to anger the already _livid, ferocious beast_ in front of them?!

«SHE MADE A MISTAKE!!» The monster shouted, grabbing Virgil by the neck and taking him closer to his face.

« _YOU_ ARE A MISTAKE! AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU KEEP LIVING UNDER _MY_ WATCH!»

They started closing their hands around Virgil's throat, a maniac expression in their eyes, their breath hitching in an almost desperate way.

«Oh Michael, you fool.» Virgil whispered, slowly smiling.

«Has She never taught you anything? There's a lot of proverbs about this.»

He fidgeted with something in his pockets, taking it out.

«Hold your friends close,» a movement, « your enemies closer,» his smile grew, «And a demon far enough not to get _stabbed_.»

He marked those words with a knife, cutting straight trough Michael's heart.

There was no blood, no tears, no screams.

Just a frustrated grunt and a quiet, fluttering mist in the place where a monster once stood.

_—_

Logan was now extremely conflicted.

On one hand, he should be terrified.

Not only whatever that _creature_ was spontaneously grew another pair of eyes and wings as big as the alley they stood in, but _his boyfriend_ did as well. This would warrant, in any given person, a pretty conspicuous crisis, an existential breakdown and several tears.

On the other hand, Virgil had never looked as magnificent as he was now.

Look, he wasn't one to throw words around without meaning, okay? He didn't sway away from the truth, and he tried to only tell certified and objectively true facts.

So when he said that Virgil was _resplendent_ , in the overall absurdity of the situation, you could bet that he was right.

He looked up again: Virgil stood against the sun, carefully putting the knife in his jeans' pocket. A golden aura shined, down from his halo to the heavily feathered wings, purple mixing with pink and white in a deep contrast to the dark alley. A tail swayed between his legs; it resembled in all the kind of tail you'd see on a cartoon demon: long and thick, with a sharp cone at the end. The only difference was the colours: the same purples as the wings instead of the usual red, reflective and iridescent in the golden glow.

He turned around, making eye contact with Logan. He was blushing and bubbling, probably trying very hard to make up some sort of explanation but Logan couldn't bring himself to listen.

He was too busy, drowning in the depth of those mismatched eyes, the deep black sclera shiny under the light,

surrounding the upside-down cross and spiral that had taken the place of the usual pupils.

The eyeshadow he always wore seemed to have filtered into his skin, growing to be more of a tattoo than normal make-up; it trailed down his cheek, stopping right behind the start of his neck.

Logan did not know what exactly his boyfriend was, not any more.

But dear Charles Newton, he was _mesmerizing_ to look at.

«This is not as it looks, i swear, i can explain.»

The last whisper of Virgil's ramble finally snapped him out of his gay stare. He was staring at the ground, his wings curled up as to protect him from the world,sparkling in the late evening's light.

«I-» Logan found he had trouble forming a coherent sentence. He had never thought Roman was right when he complained about ''being too gay to think straight'' but now that was the only explanation that sounded right.

«I do not think you have to explain anything.»

«I, I- You don't?» He was surprised. Logan himself was a little, too. He usually never was one to refuse knowledge but in this case…

«You're trembling, star.» Virgil froze.

«I have witnessed something that goes against every single one of my beliefs. You're quite obviously not as human as i thought, and i do not even want to _imagine_ what that monster was.

Yet you're still greatly more disturbed than i am.

So no, i don't think you have to explain anything right now. Not if it anguishes you so much.»

Virgil's eyes widened, shock covering his features. For a second, he looked like he was about to cry.

Then,

«Lo are you a fucking idiot?»

«I am sorry, what?»

«I've just finished _discorporating an Archangel._ I mean yeah they're the biggest mean bitch of Heaven but God damn it that's pretty damn close to a _murder_. I murdered someone! Cold-blooded, while joking about it! If i weren't still alive you could bet whatever that they'd send me straight back to hell with a kick and a fuck you!»

His words were growing faster by the second, his voice distorting and duplicating over and over.

«I am a _monster_. A mixture of the two very things that should never mix, the horrible result of the sick games She wanted to play! Anyone with a bit of functioning brains would be at the very least disgusted, if not horrified, screaming or running or going away!

Why are you still here?»

Despite all of the distortions, the last sentence came out as a low, broken whisper.

He had gone closer to Logan, tears streaming down his face like rivers. His wings, tail and hands were storming, gesticulating maniacally and scratching with all the despair of a lost man.

Logan brought up his hand, gently caressing the other's cheeks and drying out his tears. A gentle, soft smile made its way onto his face when he spoke.

«I love you.»

«But-»

«Shh, let me finish.»

Their foreheads connected, human eyes and not so human ones locking into each other. The rest of the world disappeared around them. The soft aura of warmth was being more than enough.

«I love you, as in i love _you_ , not your appearance.

I love the way you smirk, how you always hide your laugh behind your hand despite it being the most wonderful sound i can ever hope to see. I love watching you paint or draw, the way you create worlds with every stroke and make everything come alive. I love how you always get heated in your arguments with Roman while always keeping it light and friendly. I love the stars that get in your eyes every time you see something you love, like that time i tried on Patton's space skirt.

I love you for what you are, and no inhuman traits will _ever_ change my opinion.»

He chuckled.

«If anything, they make you even more beautiful. Like a God.»

«Don't say that, She'll get mad.»

Virgil was crying, now. Full crying, burying his face in Logan's shoulder as he hugged him as strong as he could.

He realized with a smile that his wings were doing the same.

And as his boyfriend stroked his hair, repeating a mantra of «this is fine, you'll be okay», Virgil found that for one time, he really believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I am really sorry that you have to suffer through my older writing, so feel free to come offend me on tumblr at https://gattonero17.tumblr.com/ .
> 
> I said in the original post that I had ideas for sequels to this but let it be known that I was lying through my teeth. I have daydreams for this, sure, but as many of my ideas tend to do it'll never reach the paper in a decent time so don't get your hopes up.


End file.
